


Rituals of Remebering

by Ribby



Category: The Lord of the Rings (Movies)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-02-27
Updated: 2006-02-27
Packaged: 2021-03-22 00:07:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 450
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30029970
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ribby/pseuds/Ribby
Summary: Remembering Boromir the Fair and his fall...





	Rituals of Remebering

**Author's Note:**

> My contribution to remembering Boromir. Yes, I'm being cryptic in the pairing. You'll see why, but I suspect most of you, knowing me, will understand when I say that there's no angst. Not a bit. *grin*

Everyone knew the King was not to be disturbed for several days at this time of year, not even for the direst of emergencies. There were rememberances to make, tears to shed, and for those he wished only his nearest and dearest about him.

A private ceremony in his chambers had begun this ritual days ago, his Steward and his lady Queen at his side. Then, they would both help him attire--his ancient Ranger leathers over heavy wool tunic and breeches, sword at his side, bow and arrows and bedroll over his shoulders. Last would be the leather bracers of Gondor, still supple and strong even after much weathering.

Girded with his old identity of Strider, he would go into the Wild, with only his Steward as his companion. His Ranger skills would slowly return, until King Elessar was buried under the old, familiar habits of Strider, a Ranger of the North, a change which never ceased to amaze his Steward, though he knew Strider of old.

After several days of travel by horse and by foot, they would reach their destination--Amon Hen, and the memorial put there years ago to mark what they came to remember. They would camp there, not far from the clearing in the trees where the Orcs had taken the hobbits, and for two days, would remember aloud, to each other and to the Valar, what had happened, shedding tears of both happiness and pain.

Then would come two days of giving thanks, both in words and in actions, as they renewed vows made in public and in private, binding them to each other yet again. Beginning with a vow of blood, they each cut their palms, and pressed them together, each swearing yet again to keep the other close as blood. Then they pressed their palms, with their blood mingled, against the memorial, to seal the vow, adding another layer of bright blood to mix with the older.

Their final memorial would be one of deepest connection--they made love in daylight, with only a groundcloth between them and the earth, once with each of them as the agressor, and each of them allowing their seed to spill against the base of the tree where Boromir had fallen, to mark the place and give thanks for what they had been given.

Then Strider the Ranger and Boromir the son of Gondor would embrace, and send a prayer to the Valar that their life together would continue long and long, and that even in the far green country of the Last Shore they would not be parted.

And thus was the memory of the fall and renewal of Boromir, son of Gondor marked.


End file.
